


Reverse Card

by Ninnies



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Open Relationships, des is a milf and loves his kids, eventual flirting, is this an enemies to lovers, this is stupid and dumb and a waste of your time but bare with me here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25490668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninnies/pseuds/Ninnies
Summary: A ship none of you ever expected to work but will. Eventually.Don't look at me. I draw I don't write.
Relationships: Deathsaurus/Esmeral, Deathsaurus/Megatron (Transformers)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Oopsie

**Author's Note:**

> mm bucket

Before Deszaras left, he couldn’t care less if Megatron saw fit to have the DJD hunt him down, do it himself, or pay him no mind at all. At the time, he preferred the latter. Taking back control over his colonies while fighting off a megatron fan-group or Megatron himself wasn’t on his bucket list. Pun intended. Looking back Deszaras remembered expanding the reign of the empire, seizing victory over whatever suicide mission was thrown his way. _He was good at it._ But Megatron would belittle him for being reckless, and Deszaras would pretend to listen. With all the dirty looks and banter, he wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t already on the list back then. It was fun, for a while. But a line was crossed, and he left. Whatever happened next was a mystery.

Then the news came. And bearing the badge felt less… annoying, strangely. No longer for a name he’d almost forgotten, but for himself. He saw an empire for the taking, so what was wrong about that? A couple things, morally speaking. But that didn’t stop him from stealing back what he built for someone else. That said someone he’d send taunts to, doubting Megatron would ever take a look. If he did, then unfortunate for him. Whatever messages and pictures he sent weren’t traceable, so the Mighty Lord Megatron couldn’t send someone to kill him. It was nice, until the fan-group started knocking at his door.

After that, everything else was a blur. A dream. He woke up and he had lost. Nickel was given control, and he forced himself to dream again. He didn’t wake up until long after, when his body floated through the dead of space. His family, whoever was left, had found him. Nickel was gone.

He’d received an anonymous message. They called. He had hoped it was Nickel, so he answered. The voice he heard was undoubtedly, purely, **not** Nickel.

“Did you think you’d ever go without punishment?”

Deszaras had only seen him on the battlefield of Necroworld. Hadn’t heard him then, hadn't bothered to listen while his crew was massacred before his eyes. Just… background noise. He didn’t even listen to the video of his defection back then when he had heard about it. The last time he heard his voice was the day before he deserted. It hadn’t changed a bit. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was caught in his throat. Was decimating his men not a fitting enough punishment? No, it wasn’t. Not to who he was talking to. Not even to himself, “So what did it this time.”

“Willfully entering a campaign to murder me.”

At that, he laughs. “I’m _shocked_.”

He’s pinged with another message. Coordinates. He knew what they meant. Megatron didn’t need to say anything. Hah. Overlord would be jealous, he thinks. Outside his room, Deszaras caught the sound of Leozack being chased down the hall screaming. A few seconds and he heard Lyzack chasing after him. His spark felt less heavy. He chuckled, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Running off again, Deszaras?” Hearing his name come from him felt wrong. _Deathsaurus_ was a name he’d been given from reputation, nobody called him Deszaras outside of his crew. For some reason Megatron saw fit to call him by his actual designation at any given opportunity.

“No. I have better things to be concerned about. You can wait.”

There was a pause on the other line. “So you’ll be coming.”

Megatron couldn’t see him shrug, or smile, “Eventually..” There was a tiny knock on his door, and his smile grew soft. “Just not now. I’m putting my kids to bed.” He hung up.

He didn’t get another ping until weeks later. It was the same coordinates. Deszaras responded with a picture of him drinking with his wife. He ignored any other messages from then on. Eventually, they stopped. Or at least he thought they did. He never paid attention. Deszaras still didn’t care if Megatron thought he was a coward. If he wanted to punish him so bad, then he could track him and send an assassin. He’d be ready.

Months later, it was Solon’s birthday. He passed away of old age, centuries ago.

It still hurt. As much as it did the first time.

Both Deszaras and his family were isolated in mourning, like every other year, taking the day off to remember him. Deszaras was locked away in his room, no longer sober, staring at his ceiling. It hit him harder, this time, when he remembered how much of his family he’d already lost. How many more he had lost. He chugged another drink. Hours passed. He got another ping. That’s when he realised this was the punishment.

Megatron didn’t make the call, he did. The Mighty Lord Megatron was the first mech besides Esmeral to interact with Deszaras drunk out of his mind. When the tyrant answered, he sounded surprised. That made him angrier, “You think you’re so clever.” Deszaras sputtered, his tongue felt longer than it was supposed to be, he kept tripping on his words, “Who told you? Was it Soundwave? Hellbat? You’re so clever, _my lord._ Really. I send you my regards.”

Megatron tried to speak. He didn’t let him.

“You know I read stories to him. A couple were about you. I never read you in a good light. Very embarrassing for you,” He doesn’t know why, but he’s giggling, “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry about anything I did to you. Even if you think you changed, I know you haven’t. Look at you, talking to me today. This day. Of all days. You’re still the same. You haven’t changed. I don’t regret leaving you.”

“Deszaras-”

“No. Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that,” He snarled, transforming on his berth, marching back and forth on all fours, “I don’t want to hear you say that name. Not even in death.”

Megatron paused, Deszaras was listening close. He heard what must have been Megatron standing up from… a chair, and then there was a sigh. Good, he was annoyed, or at least Deszaras thought... he better be.

“I was checking to see if you were still alive.” He sounded calm. Maybe. Whatever he sounded like it was the opposite of annoyed. Deszaras cursed.

“Of course I am, you stupid bucket,” His plating flared, and his wings twitched. He crawled back up onto his berth, kneading into it before curling into a ball. “Sorry to disappoint. If you sent someone after me, they’re suicidably _stupid_.”

He heard shifting, and the creak of a berth. A grunt, and more shifting. Megatron was trying to find the right way to lie down. Deszaras was getting impatient, waiting for a bite at him, some sort of comeback, or for Megatron to hang up before he did. Every millisecond felt like a minute, and the concept of time was infuriating to him, as was his current coordination. He felt dizzy. After a full minute, which felt like five, Megatron spoke, “What was his name?”

It sounded so genuine, Deszaras almost forgot who he was talking to. After a long pause of his own, he answered, “His name was Solon.”

“Tell me about him.”

And so he did.


	2. Uh Oh!

Deszaras woke up to a raging headache, sprawled on the floor in his root mode. His drunk rambling wasn’t an embarrassment but it was certainly a punishment of some sort. Funny. Confessing every dear memory of your deceased _human_ son to Megatron himself. Very funny. Deszaras remembered everything, every word he said. And every word Megatron didn’t. He did nothing, said nothing while he revealed his only weakness, and his biggest regrets. Megatron did nothing but listen.

**Well, it seems that he’s full of rage.**

He went back to sleep hoping to dream of something violent. Megatron specifically.

He was pinged with another message days later. Megatron had asked about how he was doing. Deszaras didn't answer. It was a stupid question. When he was pinged again, he responded. Each message had him biting his tongue, probably from frustration. Yes.

> _336: This whole punishment thing is starting to get ridiculous. Go write a poem._
> 
> _Slug: Is that what you thought I was doing?_
> 
> _336: What else? I know your methods of discipline aren't just physical. I know you that much._
> 
> _Slug: Well then you don't know me enough. I wasn't lying when I said I was just looking to see whether or not you were still alive._
> 
> _336: Stupid question. You know I’m a hard one to kill._
> 
> _336: Speaking of which. I think it’s time I quit putting off our little meeting, don’t you think?_

He hated all of this. It was pointless, his drunken confession was no longer a punishment but leverage against him. When he heard the pitter patter of tiny footsteps run across the hall, followed by laughter outside his quarters, his spark sank again. If it came to that, he’d throw away everything, his empire and his pride. To keep them safe, he’ll accept defeat one last time. Deszaras didn’t receive a reply until ten minutes later. 

> _Slug: A time and a place, commander. I’ve done my part, you just need to do yours._

* * *

Almost a _month_ later after several messages of back and forth banter, he picks a time. Took him long enough, though, if he were honest with himself. Over time Deszaras liked the bickering, which eventually became teasing. Really. If co-captain really were a title then Leozack would have been all over it. But it was probably just made up to soothe Megatron's ego, which he had mentioned, earning a lengthy reply of why it was to satisfy Rodimus Prime and not the Almighty ~~former~~ Lord Megatron. Which later prompted the old bucket to complain about the hot-headed prime, sometimes over call, and Deszaras to his own surprise laughing over it. Eventually they joked about a certain _other_ prime, and had Deszaras ranting about his own nemesis for that matter. When Megatron delivered the news about Star Saber's defeat at the hands of Cyclonus, he went on another drunken rage about how he didn't get to do it himself.

He should really think about thanking Cyclonus when he got the chance, though. Good riddance. _That's one less bastard to worry about,_ he had said. Megatron responded with a joke about him being the replacement. A joke. Right. According to Megatron, maybe, but he knew what it really was, in the end. A reminder.

It was all fun and games, really, but enjoyable as it was he couldn't drag it on for much longer. So finally, after one final call, he makes a choice. The Brestforce joined him on his journey in the Thunder Arrow, despite his wishes against it. He wanted to go alone, but regardless of his mistakes his crew- no, his family, remained loyal to him. Loyalty he didn't deserve.

When Deszaras reaches his destination, he’s uneasy. He's the first one there, and for some time he is alone. Normally, he'd use this to his advantage and scope the area, maybe even hide somewhere he could attack with the element of surprise. But he didn't come here to win today. He didn't come to talk his way out of it. If he survives Megatron's pummelling then it'd be a bonus for keeping his crew safe. His crew, which right now, is why he's so uneasy. An unspoken fear screamed in the back of his mind; that perhaps Megatron's punishment was not for him but the mechs he's protecting with his life. A ship full of Decepticons, unaware and waiting for the Lost Light to strike. Deszaras couldn't afford to lose another spark, as small as the number may be.

Before he can decide against it, he hails Thunder Arrow. Leozack is the one to respond to his call. "Sir?"

"Retreat back to the Nebula. Immediately."

He could hear Leozack stop in his tracks, then yelling orders to whoever was in his vicinity. Primus knows the teal-coloured bastard got a kick out of that, "Is it an ambush? Do you need backup? We are ready to-"

"No. Do not attack. Do as I say and retreat. Make sure you aren't followed. I'll catch up. That's a promise." He looks to the sky when he says it, his spark at ease with Leozack's affirmation. 

"Yes, Emperor. As you wish"

And with that, he waited. And _waited._


	3. Wild card!

Deszaras almost nodded off by the time Megatron showed up. And to his surprise, there wasn't a Lost Light in sight. He came alone, in his own little ship. Well, he supposed it's a good thing he was going to have his privacy.

He eased off the rock he had been leaning against, arms crossed. He hadn't brought a weapon, not when he intended to lose. But his instincts prickle when he sees that Megatron had appeared to only bring his fists and his wit. What was worse, when the tyrant stopped ten feet from him, he couldn't read him. Posture, expression, whatever intent he had, however he wanted to begin this punishment, Deszaras did not know. It was irritating. He was ready to make the first move and pounce himself. Get on with it already. But neither of them did anything nor said anything. The silence was irritating, too.

"You're late."

Megatron frowned, "I had expected you to show up much later, if at all."

"And let you think I'd shy away from a challenge?" Deszaras smirked, "For shame. You don't know me at all, do you."

Megatron shifted his weight, turning away slightly. "I do not. At least not enough." He moves again, Deszaras expecting him to get into a fighting position, but instead he sits on a comfortably sized rock. ... _What?_ And as if that wasn't enough to throw Deszaras' processor into a loop, Megatron looked at him, and said, "Sit with me."

Deszaras flared his wings, snarling, "Don't tell me your frame is that worn out and rusted." He marched over, hands balled into fists, "I didn't come here to be punished with words."

Megatron frowned, "We'll get to that. But first, I need to know something."

He grunts, moving to lean against stone again instead, "Get on with it, then."

"Do you think you deserve it?"

Deszaras didn't need to think at all about it. His claws dug into his palms, his teeth seething, "Yes."

"Tell me why."

His mind was spiraling. Coming up with so many reasons, all pointing to himself. His wings sagged, and he feels like he's burning under Megatron's gaze. "I let them down. For the same reason I left you." Deszaras growled, "So please, add hypocrisy to the list and get to it."

The tyrant frowned, and Deszaras wouldn't be surprised if that was his permanent expression. "I didn't come here just to knock you senseless."

"What, you came here for me to express my feelings?"

"Yes."

Deszaras made a face. A bored one. "Good luck with that." He crossed his arms, "I'm blunt, not stupidly honest."

Megatron smirked, "Perhaps. But your frame is more expressive than your words."

Deszaras rolled his optics, both sets, wings twitching and itching to shield himself from the bastard's stare. "Shut up. I can smell your smugness from here." He spat, "You know my antics. You don't know me. Remember that."

"I know. I would like that to change."

Something about the way he said it didn't settle right with Deszaras. It was itching at him, tugging him in. Curiosity. A dangerous thing. Had him hesitating, had him glancing, and with a huff, had him taking a seat closer to the irritating tyrant. He was perched on a rock, legs crossed. "You don't have all day for that," he grumbled, "So why not skip to what we came for."

Megatron sighed, rubbing his temple, "Because I'm beginning to doubt whether or not that would be a good use of my time, and if you deserve something else entirely."

"Execution?"

"No."

"Humiliation?"

"No."

Deszaras opened his mouth to ask again, just when Megatron abruptly reached over to touch him. Thankfully, he went for his hand, not his wings. He would've been more rigid than he already was and now once again: hesitant, unable to speak another word. That is, until embarrassment washed in along with the anger, "Enough of that-" Megatron wasn't holding his hand, he told himself. Just resting his own on top of the other. He wasn't holding it so there wasn't anything to let go. He'd move. Megatron should move. He didn't. He just leaned into that hand, the pressure making it more obvious to Deszaras. Frustrated he tugged his servo close to himself, ignoring the fact Megatron clearly noticed. "No games and no poetry. Get to the point," he snarls, "What do you want and why are you here."

"I could never make amends with you, Deszaras. I don't think I ever will." Megatron shifted closer, "An apology wouldn’t work, and I could never expect you to forgive, and I know you were a mech of action, not words.” Saying this he pulls out a communicator, handing it to Deszaras, and delivering a blow to his spark, "This will allow you to reach out to Nickel. From what I heard from her, you two were good friends."

Yes. They were good friends. From the little time they had they formed a bond. When she dissapeared Deszaras assumed the worst, he never even knew she was even alive. Slowly, to keep his servo steady, he took the offering, staring at it in shock. Megatron didn't say a word. It's a good thing the rusted old bucket knew how to read a room. "... She's okay," he spoke his relief in a whisper, and he finds himself unable to sit still, jumping off his seat and looking off to the little ship, and then to Megatron, "She's with _you_!?"

A nod, "Not presently, but yes. I'll spare you the story but after some... adventures, she ended up on the lost light with the scavengers."

"I'm pretty sure it's sc-avengers."

"Whatever."

Deszaras rubs his temple and starts pacing, "Yes whatever, but why?" He shakes the communicator in his palm, wings flaring out, "Why give me this?"

"Because, Deszaras," Megatron stands, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks. As if to confuse him further, Megatron **smiles** , "As I said, you appreciate actions. Not words."


End file.
